The sales of ‘The Little Prince’ character merchandise—only lifting purchasing restrictions for donations to welfare facilities like orphanages—received tons of attention and support from the public.

Countless fan letters flooded into the publisher’s office.

The Imperial Post Office even held an event where using ‘The Little Prince’ stamps upgraded your mail to express delivery, but funny enough, no one actually used them.

‘The Little Prince’ had officially become a symbol of love in the Empire.

And…

“I’d like to express my gratitude on behalf of the beastfolk. Author Homer, you are a benefactor to all of us.”

“Oh, you flatter me. It was just business,” Homer waved it off like it was no big deal.

The wealthy patrons sponsoring ‘The Little Prince’ merchandise had pockets so deep they could fund dreams.

The beastfolk managed to improve their image a little, too.

Grey, the wolf beastman with rough gray fur, bowed numerous times, showing gratitude in a way that was almost overly polite.

“As you know, Author Homer, we’ve faced persecution for ages. Being half-human, half-beast… we can’t hide our animal instincts. That’s the prejudice against us, and honestly, it’s true. I, too, get carried away by impulse when I catch a whiff of blood. Our fangs and claws are just too sharp for human company,” he lamented.

“You seem remarkably intellectual for a patron,” Homer replied, raising an eyebrow.

“If impulse isn’t under reason’s control, what’s the point of a sharp intellect? What defines a person is not brilliant smarts but a warm heart. Unfortunately, we beastfolk seem a bit short on that,” Grey said with a self-deprecating chuckle.

His laugh sounded more like a growl due to his throat and snout, which wasn’t exactly made for chuckles.

“Most humans view receiving our support as dishonorable. They call it taking the devil’s gold! Yet you, Author Homer, have taught us how to turn our money into something blessed. The wisdom to channel desire into good deeds! How could we view this as anything but a blessing?” Grey rambled.

“You’re being too kind. But you do seem quite devoted,” Homer chuckled back.

Grey wore a rosary around his thick neck, which looked more like a sturdy collar, tight enough that you’d worry it’d cut off his air.

“Is it weird for us half-beasts to believe in the God of humans?” Grey asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice rather than blame.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it that way. Just… well, it’s a bit unique,” Homer stumbled over his words, trying to avoid any unintentional offense.

“Even among the blessed, there are the indifferent; and among those excluded from blessings, there are the fervent ones. It’s not strange at all,” Grey declared confidently.

“That’s a fair point,” Homer nodded, feeling a bit enlightened.

What’s life like for those alienated by God in a world where He actually exists?

Homer didn’t dare to guess.

It would be outright rude to even try.

“Patron Grey, have you read ‘The Little Prince’?” Homer asked, steering the conversation.

“Of course I have,” Grey nodded.

While the complexities of feelings might escape him, he knew there were books that could bridge those gaps. With the wisdom and thoughtfulness of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, ‘The Little Prince’ cast a spell of honesty on its readers.

“I’d really love to hear your thoughts on it,” Homer prodded.

In front of ‘The Little Prince,’ no one can pull a fast one on themselves. There’s no need to.

That was the magic of this story.

“If you feel indebted, then just repaying that debt is enough,” Grey said philosophically. “Are you asking for my thoughts on the book? Hmmm…”

Like a puppy wiping its face, Grey used his furry, jelly-like hands to gather his thoughts.

Then he slowly began, “The fox… he was truly endearing.”

What an unexpectedly sentimental comment!

Homer couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

“Ah! I’m sorry. I asked for your thoughts and ended up laughing rudely…” he apologized, trying to regain his seriousness.

“No worries. I think all beastfolk might have fallen in love with that fox,” Grey mused thoughtfully.

“Is that so?”

“Definitely. A loyal dog always looks for someone to attach to its leash,” he added, sounding oddly profound.

Such a curious review it was.

…

Surprisingly, the name ‘Homer’ continued to spread throughout the empire, earning accolades and raising his profile.

“Homer is truly wise and considerate… I’ve already collected all his postcards, but to honor his spirit, I’ll keep donating to the orphanage,” someone remarked admiringly.

“If only I could meet him just once, I’d have no other wishes!” another chimed in.

Especially among the girls who loved romance and fantasies, Homer gained quasi-religious popularity.

In the ‘Secondary Creation Contest’, testimonials from those who had actually seen Homer added even more fuel to the fire.

“Lady Isolde, you really got to meet Author Homer at the award ceremony? I wish I had your writing skills! I’m so jealous.”

“Hehe, I just got lucky,” she replied with a grin.

“How was he? Was he as sweet and thoughtful as everyone says?”

“I remember him complimenting my writing. His voice was smooth like silk as he pointed out all the strengths of my work… I was so nervous I ended up stumbling over my words. A bit embarrassing, to be honest.”

“What did he look like?”

“He had a slightly exotic vibe, super noble… and maybe a tad fragile? He looked like he stepped out of a distant eastern kingdom, you know? That kind of aura,” she described dreamily.

“Kyaa!”

“And then he took my hand…”

“Wait, WHAT? He took your hand?! Oh my—.”

“Let’s not go too far, shall we?” she laughed, cutting off further excitement.

“Come on, Lady Isolde! Please tell us the rest of the story!”

Most testimonies sounded like wild fantasies plastered over a fictional novel.

Baseless rumors and exaggerated claims stacked up, and Homer became more than just a writer to the people.

He was literature’s idol. The saint of literature. The father of literature!

People adored Homer in their own ways, and that admiration spread massive influence throughout society.

“Head Priest!”

“Hehe, Sister! Why are you running around like a whirlwind? Take a breath first!”

“Well, uh, it’s about the anonymous benefactor—gasp! Cough.”

“Calm down, take your time. Did they donate bread again? If we get too much, we’ll have to lobby the orphanage to set up a soup kitchen for the beggars…”

“They donated an entire orphanage building!”

“…What?”

It was more than just giving bread to collect stamps at the orphanage.

A competitive vibe to promise donations and support to orphanages had kicked off.

“…It feels like a miracle.”

“It is a miracle….”

“Let’s all pray to God together.”

Building a social safety net using private funds.

Before ‘The Little Prince,’ orphanages barely scraped by, kept alive only by fervent religious spirit, sometimes forcing kids to beg or work due to cash shortages.

But everything flipped when ‘The Little Prince’ showed up.

Public interest, changing social attitudes, a maturing civic awareness. The power of culture sparked major, lasting change.

“Ah! Head Priest!”

“Yes, Sister…”

“What if we all pray together for Mr. Homer with the children from the orphanage? Hehe.”

“That’s a fantastic idea.”

“I’ll go fetch the kids!”

As long as ‘The Little Prince’ remains a symbol of love,

And as long as there are kids who need fairy tales, and adults who were once children,

Even if the trend cools off,

The warmth of those embers will still flicker inside people’s hearts.

[If out there among countless stars, someone loves a rose blooming alone,]

[Just looking up at the stars will make them happy.]

[“My rose will be among those stars somewhere,” they’ll smile and think.]

[But if a sheep eats that rose, it’d feel like all the stars suddenly lost their shine.]

[And yet, is that really so unimportant?!]

Every time they see ‘The Little Prince’, they’ll remember their childhood,

And they’ll be able to smile.

…

As a loyal dog in a painting looks at the fox, hoping to be tamed,

And a girl loving roses prays to the stars.

“The Empire’s servant greets Your Highness the Prince.”

“Oh, I’m no longer a prince, you know?”

“…I greet Your Highness the Princess.”

Homer—Ed felt like he was standing in front of a viper.

“I’m not a princess anymore either.”

“…Yes?”

…

“Thanks to the medicine provided by the author, I’ve transformed into a woman’s body, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

“So His Majesty was a bit troubled by it.”

“…I see.”

Was it really just a minor hassle?

Looking at her smiling eyes and upbeat humor, all such doubts seemed to fade away.

Yep.

She must have figured out a way.

“So, saying the prince was actually a princess is just confusing… so we went with the traditional approach!”

“The traditional approach… you say?”

“I got adopted by Enoch!”

“Yes?”

Enoch was the name of the shadow that protected the prince.

But wait, the prince got adopted by him?

“Enoch becomes Prince Idris, and I step in as his adopted daughter! It’s the classic method to conserve the royal bloodline while solving the royal family’s lineage hiccups, right?”

“Uh, that’s, uh? I’m sorry, but I don’t quite get it….”

“Now, the name Idris and the title Your Highness all belong to Enoch!”

This was puzzling.

The prince was no longer a prince.

“…Then how does that make you feel about Your Highness now?”

“Come on, I’m NOT a ‘Your Highness’ anymore! That’s blasphemy, you know?”

She chided me playfully.

And then, with a childlike, innocent smile, she confidently introduced herself.

“Call me Lady Es!”